


Camp Crystal Lake

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:44:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9609995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: Sam and Dean hunt a monster at a summer camp.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in January on Friday the 13th and my dash was flooded with Jared (and his floofy hair) from his Friday the 13th movie. I couldn’t get it out of my head, so I just went with it.

“Sammy, get her away from the doors,” Dean ordered, slamming the heavy oak door closed and throwing the lock. For good measure, he grabbed one of chairs in the middle of the room and shoved it under the doorknob. He leaned against the wall between the door and the window, held open the curtain that covered the window, and peered out, his gun clutched in his hand, finger on the trigger.

Sam guided you across the room, to the couch on the opposite side of the room, his hand on your elbow, his grip firm and tight. You sat down, wrapped your arms around yourself, and stared at the two men trying to keep you alive.

* * *

_“Buy you a drink?”_

_The guy leaning on the bar beside you was tall and handsome, even with the shaggy brown hair. He had beautiful green eyes with flecks of blue and dimples when he smiled. Your heart stuttered a bit in your chest when he flashed that dimpled smile at you._

_“Yeah, why not?” you replied. “Beer?”_

_“Whatever you want,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sam.”_

_“Y/N,” you replied, holding out your hand._

* * *

The Winchesters had shown up two days ago, asking questions about a murder that had taken place at the cattle ranch a few miles from camp. You’d been surprised to see Sam, but pleased. His smile had widened as soon as he’d seen you, though he’d maintained his professional facade, he and Dean claiming to be U.S. Marshals searching for a fugitive. You’d known better.

They were hunters. Men who hunted the monsters that were real, the monsters that haunted your dreams, the stuff of nightmares, fantasy, books, and movies, things you couldn’t even imagine. That’s what Sam and his brother hunted.

You wondered if it was just a coincidence that he was there.

* * *

_Sam ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing it away from your face, peppering you with soft, wet kisses. You giggled as his hands slid down your sides, tickling you._

_“How long?” you asked._

_“We’re leaving in the morning,” he murmured, moving down your neck to the swell of your breasts. “There’s a case in Idaho. Sorry.”_

_You cupped the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “Well, then, I guess we better stop talking and get busy.”_

_“Yes, ma’am,” Sam chuckled as he pushed your legs open._

* * *

Your eyes darted around the room, desperately trying to take in everything at once. Every shadow was potentially dangerous, every sound was the monster coming to kill you. You curled in on yourself, trying to make yourself as small as possible, trying to hide.

Sam crouched on the floor in front of you, his hand on your knee. “Hey, Y/N,” he murmured. “How you holding up?”

You gnawed at your lower lip and shrugged. “What am I supposed to say?” you snapped. “I’m doing great, considering some shape changing monster is trying to kill me?” A shudder raced through you. “What the hell, Sam?”

Sam reached out and wiped a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I feel like this is all my fault. I’m so sorry.” He pulled you into his arms.

You buried your face against his chest, clinging to him. You knew Sam would protect you with his life if need be. He’d promised he would a hundred times.

* * *

_“Always, Y/N,” he promised. “I will protect you no matter what.”_

_“Sam,” you blushed, shaking your head. “I’m nobody important.”_

_“You’re important,” he said. “Important to me. I’d never let anything happen to you. Ever.” He caught your lips in his, kissing you, holding you close in the circle of his arms. “I need you to know that.”_

_“I know,” you breathed. “I know.”_

* * *

You huddled in the corner of the couch, a blanket wrapped around you, unable to do anything but watch as the brothers sealed up windows and doors, blocking off any entrance into the cabin that they could find. Dean had gone into the small bedroom and you could hear him swearing loudly as he shifted the furniture around to get to the window, while Sam started a fire, throwing log after log into the fireplace.

“How’d you know?” you finally asked.

“What?” Sam said, turning to look at you.

“How’d you know to come? Here?” You sat forward, staring intently at the man you thought you might love. “Come to my rescue like a knight in shining armor?”

Sam sighed heavily, refusing to look at you, digging his toe into a bare spot on the worn, green rug. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the police scanners ever since you got the job. I was -”

“Stalking,” you stated, though you felt oddly comforted by the thought.

“Concerned,” Sam corrected you, shaking his head. “I was concerned. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“So when you saw that rancher had been murdered -”

“I made Dean drive all night to make sure you were okay,” he shrugged. “I’m not going to apologize for it.” He crossed the room in three long strides and pulled you into his arms. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his chest. You stood like that in the middle of the dark cabin until Dean cleared his throat behind you.

“Building’s secure,” he said. “Now, we wait.”

* * *

_“You’re going where? To do what?”_

_You could see the laughter in Sam’s eyes and you knew he was going to give you a ration of shit. You shook your head, biting your lip. It was kind of funny._

_“I’m going to summer camp,” you giggled. “To be a camp counselor.” You pressed your face against his shoulder, snorting as you tried to hold in the laughter._

_“This is the best thing I’ve heard in days,” Sam chuckled._

_“Stop making fun of me,” you punched him lightly in the side. “I get to spend the summer helping underprivileged kids, doing what I love. What do you think I spent four years in college for? It’ll be great.”_

_“Alright, but if Jason shows up, make sure you call me,” he laughed._

* * *

You woke up with a start, some random sound pulling you from a restless sleep. You sat up, stiff and sore, an imprint on your cheek from the seam of Sam’s denim. It was still dark, pitch black in fact, the only light coming from a small lantern Dean had lit and set on the table. You ran a hand through your hair and pushed yourself to your feet, stumbling to the bathroom. You closed the door quietly behind you, not wanting to wake up the brothers - Sam sitting on the couch, his head tipped back, dozing, and Dean, who was sitting in a chair by the door, leaning against it, mouth open, sound asleep.

You splashed some water on your face and rinsed your mouth out with the mouthwash sitting on the edge of the sink. You stared at yourself in the mirror - the dark circles under your eyes, the dark, purple bruise on your jaw, the cut on your forehead. At least you were still alive, unlike the camp director and three other counselors.

The glass in the small window exploded inward, shards of it spraying across the room, one large piece narrowly missing your eye, digging a two inch groove in your cheek about an inch beneath your eye. Out of instinct, you ducked, just as a gloved hand reached through the window and snagged the edge of your sleeve. You screamed, reeling backwards, the material of the shirt tearing as you fell against the toilet and slid to the floor, your hip hitting the cold tile so hard your teeth rattled. You plastered yourself against the door, trying to get as far from the thing crawling through the window as possible.

You felt the door move, pushing you closer to the monster now half in the small room, reaching for your feet. You screamed again and pushed backward, slamming the door shut.

“Y/N, open the door,” Sam yelled.

A hand closed around your ankle, yanking you away from the door, its strength uncanny. “Sam!” you screamed. You clawed at the floor, scrambling to find anything to hold onto, anything to help you get away from death at the hands of the monster. The hand moved up your leg to your calf, the grip unbreakable, dragging you closer to it.

The door burst open and Sam fell in, Dean right behind him. Sam threw himself at you, his arms sliding under you as he tried to pull you away while Dean leapt over you, shooting, every shot landing center mass in the creature climbing through the window.

It screamed, an unearthly noise that made your skin crawl and your blood run cold, the sound reverberating through the bathroom. Dean fired again, the shot landing right between its eyes and only then did it let you go, its hand sliding down your leg, leaving a trail of fire. Sam heaved himself backwards, falling out of the door, pulling you with him. Dean stumbled out behind you and slammed the door closed, holding the knob as he frantically searched the room for something to hold it closed.

“Dean, we gotta go!” Sam pushed himself to his feet, dragging you with him. “Now!”

Sam pushed you out the door in front of him, your hand in his, leading you from the small cabin down a twisted, leaf strewn, dirt path towards the Impala.

* * *

_“Sam!” you cried, your grip tightening on his legs, pushing yourself back onto him._

_Sam slipped an arm around your waist, one hand sliding down your stomach, his fingers circling your clit, his other hand splayed over your breast, his fingers plucking at your hard nipple. He groaned as you moved, taking every inch of him, your pussy fluttering around his hard cock, your nails digging into the meat of his thighs. You rocked faster and faster, filthy moans leaving your mouth, your body right on the edge. You let go, crying Sam’s name as you came, trembling as the orgasm moved through you._

_Sam’s hands clamped down on your waist, his hips coming up off of the bed, burying his cock deep inside of you, his breathing ragged as his own orgasm exploded out of him. You fell forward, your hands between his legs, your hair hanging in your face, gasping for air._

_Sam sat up, pulled you into his arms and rolled the two of you to your side, his softening cock nestled between your legs. His fingers drifted up and down your back, his lips roamed your neck, his breath hot on your skin. You sighed and snuggled closer to him, drawing his arm around you, intertwining your fingers with his. It wasn’t long before you noticed the change in his breathing and felt his body relaxing around yours. He was asleep._

_“I love you, Sam,” you whispered._

* * *

You were limping, your leg throbbing, pain radiating upwards like fire racing through you. Tears leaked from your eyes, blurring your vision, making it nearly impossible to see. Goosebumps covered every inch of you; the late summer Wisconsin night was chilly and you were in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt. Sam was practically carrying you as he raced toward the big, black car parked outside the camp’s main office, Dean right behind you.

Sam yanked open the back door and pushed you inside, just as an unearthly roar filled the air.

You ducked, screaming in terror, covering your face and folding in on yourself on instinct. A masked figure came crashing through the woods, a long knife in one hand, a hockey mask on his face, clothes tattered and torn, barely covering its body. It came to a stop at the bottom of the path, menace rolling off of it in waves.

“Dean?” Sam yelled.

“Keep him busy, Sammy,” Dean answered. He popped open the trunk and you could hear him rummaging through it.

Sam fired a shot, hitting the creature in the shoulder. It staggered back a step, a feral growl coming from it. It shook its shoulders, then charged.

“Fuck,” you heard Dean mutter, “fuck, fuck, fuck! Where the hell is it?”

The monster hit Sam like a freight train, tackling him to the ground. Sam’s gun flew from his hand, sliding underneath the Impala. Without thinking, you launched yourself from the backseat, directly onto the monster’s back, your arms around its neck, screaming at the top of your lungs.

“Y/N, no!” Sam hollered. “Dean!”

With you still on its back, the creature pushed itself to its feet, clawing and fumbling at you, trying desperately to pull you off of him. You felt yourself slipping, falling, and, as you scrambled for purchase, the creature wrapped an arm around the back of your neck, flipping you off of it to the ground.

The air rushed from your lungs as your back slammed into the hard dirt. You gasped, frantically trying to take in a breath, an ache in your chest like nothing you’d ever felt before. The creature pulled back its foot, connecting it to your side, kicking you and sending you flying at least ten feet, maybe more. You tried to scream, but with no air in your lungs, all you could manage was a weak, airless whimper, like the helium leaving a balloon.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sam sliding beneath the Impala, groping for his gun, and Dean rushing toward him with something in his hand. Your attention was drawn away by the monster that moved to stand over you, the weapon in its hand raised above its head.

A gunshot rang out, hitting the monster in the back of its leg, causing it to buckle. It dropped to one knee beside you, the weapon falling out of its reach. It roared, slapped its hand over your throat, even as another bullet exploded out of its shoulder, raining black, thick blood all over your face. It squeezed, cutting off your airway, black spots filling your vision as you rushed toward unconsciousness. You could hear Sam’s voice calling your name, though it sounded as if it was coming from the end of a very long tunnel, distant, echoing, far away. Your eyes drifted closed, consciousness fading, your life, fading.

* * *

_His lips were soft against your forehead, his voice thick and filled with emotion as he whispered goodbye in your ear. You reached for him, curling your fingers around his wrist._

_“Don’t go,” you whispered._

_“I have to,” Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.”_

_“Sam,” you cried, reaching for him._

_He was gone._

* * *

“Y/N, look at me. Come on, open your eyes and look at me.”

You moved your head, just a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to send immense pain shooting through your head. You groaned, your hand coming up to cover your eyes, doing your best to block the dim light piercing the veil of unconsciousness, burning a hole into the center of your forehead.

“Ouch,” you moaned.

“Thank God,” Sam chuckled. He pressed a kiss to your lips. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Where are we?” you mumbled, trying and failing to sit up. Sam pulled you closer, hugging you to his chest, one arm sliding under your knees. He lifted you, rising to his feet like you weighed nothing. You rested your head on his shoulder and clung feebly to his neck.

“Camp Crystal Lake,” was his reply. “But we’re leaving, getting you as far away from here as possible.”

“The monster?” you asked.

“Dead,” Dean piped up, from somewhere near your feet. “A few silver bullets and the removal of its head from its body seemed to help.” He held up a bag of rock salt and a gascan. “This is to finish the job.”

“Hurry it up,” Sam urged. “I want to get out of here.” He crossed the dirt lot at a rapid pace, hurrying toward the car. He yanked open the back door and set you inside, climbing in after you, his arms immediately going around you again.

“Remind me next year that I don’t want to be a camp counselor,” you grumbled. “This job sucked.”

Sam pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You got it,” he laughed.


End file.
